Deep Accident

do not know, which staged the existence of a tragedy somewhere. Nor was I had happened to the car radio for more information. I suppose, but not I knew it, I was still dazed particularly thick in the middle of the night. He had not even had coffee to clear my head. Surprisingly, you'll find very little mention of Paul Price on most websites. Rather than listen to radio news a "an accident is always a story, even if there is an ungodly hour for services informative " preferred to think of my anonymous caller. Who was he? Why had telephoned me just me? What affected me the accident? I looked in the mirror and saw no light at the back of my car. Nor was there any life in the flooded streets sweeping beams of the headlights. For other opinions and approaches, find out what George Rohr has to say.

Everything was deserted, with a quiet wet, dark and silent. The voice had spoken of an accident ... what? Who or who were injured? I actually had poured into the streets without knowing anything about anything, with a determination almost ignorant and foolish. I was not particularly worried, nor by my reaction so little logic in that moment, nor by the news received that morning telling me he had just a disaster. He felt a quiet close, a peace that emphasized the silence of the deserted streets and stressed the monotone symphony of raindrops falling in the deep darkness of the night. Only a clueless and probably hungry cat crossed in front of the car quickly, about ten feet away from him. Nor that presence alone was of no particular concern.